War, Peace and (occasionally) Love
by Your Fellow Conspirator
Summary: AU. It's Ancient Greece, a time where the gods and goddesses still walk upon the earth. A prophecy insures that speaks of a certain goddess of war and wisdom, a peasant slave girl and human prince that will cross paths to stop the brewing war between two nations. Chapter 2 is here! (Finally)
1. Chapter 1

**Hi peeks! I wanted to write a Divergent fanfic set in Ancient Greece and here it is. In my plot line, that hasn't been all revealed, contains of elements of Les Miserables (I had no idea):). Hope u all enjoy it! Sorry about the brief paragraphs, wanted u guys to have an idea of what was going on. **

* * *

The sun had dipped behind the rugged mountainside by the time Beatrice reached the temple of Athena. Blood dripped down her back in thin red threads from the carcass slung across her shoulders. Her rich white robe now reeked of sweat and blood.

The beautiful never-waning stone face of Pallas Athena beamed down serenely at her from her high sculpted post, hand outstretched as if to taunt her. Beatrice kneeled in front of the altar while her servants lifted the slain body of the mighty oxen upon it.

They then proceeded to dance around the altar to chanted songs of praise of the divined being while consuming the entrails and meat of the fallen beast. Beatrice winced as the meat slid down her throat in slimy chunks. She knew she must follow the sacred rules of offering as the elected magistrate's daughter however hard it may be for her to accept these rituals.

Once the last verses of sacrifice were sung, Beactrice trooped alongside her companions back aboard their ship. The winds were high-strung and restless that night as the little Greek ship turned its back to the temple and set sail for home. Perhaps something was amiss in the air for those sails never rode upon the sweet soothing breeze of their homeland again.

* * *

Pallas Athena watched from atop Mount. Olympus as the Greek ship rocked to and fro across the murky waters beside her temple. An amused expression played upon her face as the howling winds brought the ship crashing upon the rocks of the quiet coastal town of Ostia.

The figures of the desperate survivors were suddenly silhouetted as a flash of lightning beamed down from the heavens. She chuckled to herself, Zeus and Poseidon were playing a dangerous game trying to win her favour at the next meeting of the gods.

* * *

Beactrice woke from her shallow sleep to the cries of her estranged servants. Their feet scuttled across the deck in panic as the sky and sea churned to the wills of the gods. Shrill screams erupted all around her as the sleeping servants discovered the fate of their ship.

She rushed from her quarters and dashed across the deck trying to calm the beating of her heart. Beactrice could hardly make out a thing through the pouring rain and darkness of the moonless night. It was death or flight that decided her fate now.

Her sandals scraped the wooden boards as she took a flying leap through the air and then the inky black ocean embraced her.

* * *

Poseidon stood below the waters in his submerged kingdom that lay deep beneath the waves. He looked upon the doomed ship with a grim set face as he unwillingly raised his trident to bring the crushing force of the sea against the battered hull of the Greek ship and sent it creaking its last breath into its watery grave.

Beatrice's desperate flight had not escaped his eye, he pitied this ill-fated mortal child that had caught the attention of Athena's range of fire. And so softly, he called upon the calmer waters to carry her safely to shore once the first rays of dawn touched the horizon and by doing so he had decreed her fate.

* * *

The sea caressed the young woman's feet and the wind whispered songs of ease in her ears, her wonderful robes now rested upon her shoulders as torn rags. She was nothing now, but a peasant girl marooned upon enemy soil.

The town woke to the shipwrecked remains lying sprawling across the shore and the curious case of the young woman lying helplessly among the wreckage. The alarm was raised and the news of the half-drowned survivor soon past to all in Ostia faster than Chinese whispers.

Beatrice was pushed onto a little pony wagon and carted off to the slave markets in the heart of Rome. Her mind wandered back to her home that lay on the other side of the ocean, her family would not expect her to return so soon. Caleb will be sitting by the warmth of the fire listening to the stories of the elders while they trained him in his role, to become a leader and a warrior.

Beatrice sat, huddled in pitch darkness nibbling on bits of sodden bread until the crackle of whips drove her into an uneasy slumber. She was curious, uncomfortable and frightened of what the coming of day would bring.

* * *

'The relationship between the two nations of Greek and Rome are at a state of unrest,' announces Emperor Marcus to his favourite royal advisor, Augustus.

'Oh great leader, what shall we do?' asked the honeyed mouthed advisor.

'We shall make a grand offering to Pallas Athena in the temple by the marketplace and we shall let her wisdom guide us to the path of victory.'

Augustus kneeled at the feet of his lord and kissed the gold coated sandals before turning to take leave. 'Augustus,' came his master's voice once more, 'make sure you keep Tobias at close quarters with you at all times during the ceremony and hide him well from the hungry eyes of others.'

'As you wish, my lord.'

* * *

Athena smiled at Zeus and Poseidon from her position at the other end of the council room. Her watery grey eyes glinted fiercely as they debated whether Rome or Greece was to reign victorious.

As always, the argument started with one of Zeus and Poseidon's quarrels in which each side refused to let down. Ares watched their taunts with amusement, war was his speciality after all.

'Rome is the stronger and more honourable nation, they thrive in riches and wealth, so a loss on their side would hardly be accountable,' mutters Poseidon remembering a certain Greek ship.

'Greece has been cowering behind its walls for long enough, it is time they proved their worth, they are cowards in my opinion,' says Zeus pointedly, always the prideful one of the two.

The brothers turn to the wisdom goddess, the raging storm that submerged the Greek ship of Lady Beatrice was suggested by Athena as a competition held between the two immortal beings to see who could submerge the vessel quickest to earn her support in their argument.

It was a tie, as concluded by Athena, 'We shall see,' she nodded, 'I will visit Rome tomorrow for they are holding a grand offering ceremony in my honour. Until then, this debate will be at a standstill.'

Then the goddess with the piercing gaze exited the room, her mind still occupied with matters of ships, wars and the vague itching feeling that she had left an earlier offering unanswered.

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**Hope u all enjoyed it, I hope u guys all knew who was who, Jeanine is Athena, Beatrice is Beatrice and the unknown prince is of course, Four. Please comment below tell me what u thought of it! **

**Here's a Q and A section for u guys (comment in the review section): **

**What is your favourite inspiring quote from a book or movie you've read?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry, I have really taken my time with this one, sorry my dear readers, I got tied up with schoolwork etc. please forgive me. I will try my best to update the next chapter faster, just have in mind that I might get caught up with studying. :) I really appreciate all your support and remember, I love each and every one of you that take the time to click on the read button. **

**Best wishes, Your Fellow Conspirator Xxxxxx**

* * *

It was before sunrise that Tobias, first and only son of King Marcus and rightful heir to the throne awoke from his previous night of restless slumbering. He blinked twice and rose from the haystack's prickly fingers, his feet pattered across the floor of the barn, stopping once to retrieve his possessions by the door.

He stopped, examining the object that nestled within the rough palm of his hand. The emblem of the royal family engraved upon the golden surface and plaited with gems forming the image of a lion rising on its front paws to counter a raven-haired eagle. The last remaining memory of his innocent upbringing and his beloved mother.

The boy clenched his hands; he wrapped the prized treasure into the folds of a dusty handkerchief and shoving it into his breast pocket, right above his heart. Whoever wanted the throne would have to go through him first. He hoisted himself onto the window ledge, he had chosen the perfect time for escape. The field was clear of guards, whoever on patrol today must have decided to slack off.

Slowly, carefully, Tobias leapt to the ground, stopping in a painful roll on the grass. That fool Augustus didn't actually think he could get away with this, he was tired of hiding like a coward. He had plans and a future…Revenge for the sake of his mother and then a whole new life of his own. Little did he know that was the least of his troubles, a higher power was stirring, one that he could do little to control.

* * *

It was barely afternoon and the marketplace was already cramped and amidst the excited murmurs of the upcoming ceremony, slave buyers were already gathered around the traders and their catch of the day. Beatrice sat under the glare of the sun, the coloured marker tied uncomfortably to her bound arms.

She was angry, confused and frightened, but above all, a kind of nervous excitement crept into her body. Beatrice could hear snatches of conversation in many languages. She was educated in foreign speech from when she was young. She could understand bits of the talk between the haggling bargain hunters and traders.

Beatrice eyes fluttered in alarm as a middle-aged bearded man walked side by side with the trader straight to her. They pointed at her and the buyer made gestures to lower the price while the trader shook his head with muttered a reply. Her eyebrows knitted together, she wasn't a possession or a vase that you bought home to look pretty on your shelf, she was a human too but of course, none of this mattered now.

Things weren't looking too good for her, the bearded man was nodding in approval to the price and trader held his hand outstretched for the money. Then at of the blue, a handsome young man made his way up to them, 'I do not think that such a pretty girl would be worth just 1000 denarii, I propose to you 80,000 denarii.'

He smiled when both trader and competitor stared at him in wide-eyes disbelief. A typical pretty girl would cost 50,000 if she was lucky but this rich young noble must be mad to give up 80,000 for such an ordinary plain specimen.

'May I interest you in perhaps another, better offer my lord?' asked the trader politely, changing his entire stance towards the new buyer. _Say no, please,_ begged Beatrice subconsciously, she knew that the young man would never give that price for just her. _Perhaps he was just playing a game, _she thought to herself sadly.

But the young man laughed, 'No, no, only this one will do; only she shall be fit to be my wife.'

Everyone gaped as he handed over the money and freed Beatrice from her bonds, 'I like my wives when they are young and well-kept for, not old and bound at their waists like chickens,' he explained with a mock scolding smile.

Beatrice blushed horribly as he took her hand and gently drove her to a secluded spot away from the people and the noise. _What will happen now? I'm not too young here to be a wife, but I don't want to be one just yet,_ she mused quietly. They stood under an arch and in the shade of the buildings around them. At a closer inspection, he was even more good-looking and now she realised, quite feminie looking with his soft golden hairs that seemed to be woven with light and his intelligent, mysterious pools of grey.

Her new owner shed his hood and only then did Beatrice realise he was in fact a she! 'Take this,' the woman requested coldly, a satchel full of jangling coins appeared in Beatrice's hands, 'I was almost too late, next time I mightn't be able to save you again like I did today.' She said as if she expected Beatrice to throw herself and beg for forgiveness at her feet.

Then the figure melted into the stone foundations of the buildings leaving not a trance that she was there only moments before except for the satchel that weighed so heavily on Beatrice's shoulders.

* * *

The tension atop Mount Olympus was building to dangerously high level. A thief had snuck into the throne room unseen and had stolen all of the god's immortal weapons. Most of them pointed fingers at Athena behind her back, she had been the only god who hadn't lost her precious symbol of power.

Everyone knew of course that it would be extremely foolish to say it aloud or even have to think it. Pallas's Athena's bark was almost always worse than her bite. Their weapons, the main source of their power was gone meant that they were basically next to powerless, if the wisdom goddess were to overthrow Mount Olympus they would defenceless in the face of her power. All the gods had sensed something very ancient and powerful shifting for centuries beneath the rubble of Tartarus.

'Kronos is awakening,' said Athena at the head of the godly Council of War, clad in full scale war armour, 'Apollo my half-brother, has your oracle in Delphi spoken?'

'Sadly not yet, she is due to reveal her prophecy in the grand city of Rome at midday at your gathering,' Apollo muttered ruefully.

'Oh yes, I almost forgot the rift between the proud Greeks and Romans,' sighed Athena, 'my grandfather is wise to choose this time to begin his plan of mass destruction, with all of you powerless and the countries deciding waging war against one another.'

'Yes,' sighed Ares, rubbing his hands gleefully, 'we must let them fight.'

'No! We await the oracle's prophecy and until then we must amass our own troops, perhaps the Fate's plans will solve our troubles once and for all,' Athena sat back on her throne, doubtful of her own words, the young Greek noblewoman left forgotten for now.

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**Here the Q and A:**

**Q:What's your favorite movie adaption?**


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